Longer than I've Known You
by MaddieMary
Summary: Letters from one person to another. Some are angsty love letters, some will make you sob for hours on end, and some have that refreshing tone to them that can only be a letter from Johanna Mason.
1. A letter from Gale to Katniss

**A/N **In case you ignored my summary, THIS CONTAINS MAJOR MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS. If you haven't read MJ, don't read this. If you're one of those people, good bye, I don't want to spoil it for you. For those of you who have read it, this story is about the letters between Katniss and Gale after MJ ended. I HATED the way that Gale and Katniss's relationship ended, and hated even more how Katniss only felt relief that Gale was far away in District 2. For now, it's going to be just Katniss and Gale, but I may add some more letters from other people. It's all pretty open. Enjoy

...

Katniss,

I don't know if you'll ever read this. You probably won't, because I know you're angry at me. For all I know, you may even hate me. I tried calling, again and again. Did you know it was me, and that's why you didn't pick up?

This is the sixth time I've tried writing this letter, and I'm not it writing again. So if this turns out completely horrible, I don't care. I'm still sending it either way.

I saw Peeta when he came to get a hoverplane ride to come back to 12. He seemed really excited about something, but he wouldn't tell me what it was. He's with you now. Of course he is.

You may not know, or even care, but I'm in District 2 now. They offered me this job, in communications. I don't even know how I'm qualified for it, but I took it anyways. It's a weird feeling, not having a home anymore. I wasn't going back to 12, for a whole bunch of reasons you probably already know, because some of them involve you. I didn't know what I was going to do. It was all wide open—I could go to the woods and live off of squirrels the rest of my life. Remember, before you got reaped that first Games, I told you we could make it if we ran off into the woods. We wouldn't have had to worry about any of the hell going on in the districts. I still think we could do it.

What are you doing in 12? Does it still look like it did came to visit it months back, the coal dust replaced with ashes? Are you still hunting, every day, by our nook in the rocks that looks over the valley? I miss it. If there's one thing I really miss, it's hunting in my woods. Our woods. It's solitude. It's the closest to safety I ever got.

So here's the thing that I really need to say. Sorry. I'm sorry. For the way we ended up, because I could tell you anything, and it was the same way for you, and it's not like that anymore. Because I loved you, and I still love you, and I didn't tell you until it was too late. It was too late the moment Prim's name was called.

And I'm sorry about Prim. It probably sounds horrible to you, because my apology won't fix anything. But I realized I never said it, and that no matter how hollow it may seem to you, written down on a piece of paper, I should say it anyways. Sorry isn't enough. But I'm sorry.

Sometimes I wonder where we would be if all this had never happened. If you were never reaped. Where would we be, Katniss? It's pointless now, to dwell on the past.

I'm really going to send this letter. I can't decide if you'll reply or not, but I guess it doesn't matter. I'll always be the hanging man in the tree, waiting for an answer.

Gale


	2. A letter from Katniss to Gale

**A/N **Before I left for vacation tomorrow, I wanted to post Katniss's letter. I appreciate all the great reviews I got, I really wasn't expecting all that! Thanks. Hope you enjoy.

...

Gale,

It's been five and half years since I saw you last. Five and half.

Do you realize that's longer than I've known you? Because I only really knew you up until five and a half years ago. I don't know anything about you, since then.

I'm not going to lie to you. When I got your letter, I put it in a drawer and tried to forget about it. It worked, because today I opened the drawer and found the envelope at the very bottom, and it took me awhile to remember how it got there. But I would be a terrible person if I just threw that letter away and never wrote back.

It's unbelievable, how much time I've had to think. Just think. Everything I've done since my first Games has been replayed, over and over. And I see everything I did wrong. Everything I did that hurt you. That hurt Peeta. That got others killed.

Why was I the Mockingjay? I'm not like you. I can't fight in a battle. You can't see what it's done to me, but I'm sure you can imagine.

I said I wasn't going to lie to you, and I'm not. I just can't do that anymore. I'm leaving my house, moving to live with Peeta now. Were you expecting that? You must have. And I won't say anymore because it's been five and a half years and you maybe don't even care anymore. If you do care, you sure don't want to hear details. I won't be surprised if you've tried to forget me, just like I've tried to forget you. Maybe this letter will just make everything worse, because it took me nearly six years to write back. Maybe you'll be mad at me. I wouldn't blame you. Loving me isn't healthy for anyone, because I seem to bring trouble square on the shoulders of everyone I associate myself with, and I never wanted to hurt you. But I did. So if you've forgotten me and put my letter at the bottom of a drawer, I would understand. I made a choice, and living with that choice was harder for you than it was for me.

I go hunting by myself now. You still hunt, right? It's strange how, through all of this, my constant, my rock, wasn't even a person. My constant was the woods. The solitude. The safety.

You can apologize about Prim. But you knew me, and you knew that it's not enough. Nothing will ever be enough. She's dead, and that's the way it is. You know exactly why I can accept your apology, and exactly why I can't forgive you completely. Those are two totally different things to me. And I'm sorry for that.

I saw you on the television last night. It's weird, because I can still see the fourteen-year old boy I met in the woods, hidden in your face. The young boy I met eleven years ago. But I just can't look back, because slowly, steadily, things are getting better for me.

You go through the motions, and it starts to feel real again. _You_ start to feel real again.

Katniss


	3. Another letter from Gale to Katniss

Katniss,

You wrote. I can't believe you wrote. I didn't really expect you too, because I still had to say goodbye, and I knew that you didn't.

Everything feels kind of bizarre now. For the first time in my life, nothing's going wrong. Nobody's starving. I'm not suffocating in a mine. It sounds awful, but it's true. I'm still hunting, but not just to keep myself alive. I'm working for money, but even when my rent is paid there's still extra left over. What do I do with extra money?

I quit my communications job in 2, after about a year or two, because I can't sit in a tiny room behind a fancy desk all day. It's nearly as bad as being stuck in the mines. So I left. Worked odd jobs, actually. And I'm trying to find a real job now, in any of the districts really. I don't care where I end up, because I'm not really tied to a certain place. You know Hazelle and the kids are living in 5 now. Or maybe you don't. Maybe it's not only me you tried to forget. If you just tried to forget the whole world, I wouldn't blame you. It sure sounds easier than trying to keep it alive.

I knew you'd move in with Peeta, Katniss. It really doesn't come as that much surprise, you know. And it doesn't bother me so much anymore. I guess I knew all along ever since you went to the Games and met him that it was too late for me. Because after the Quell, you looked like you wanted to throw yourself off a building and nothing changed that, not even when you were with me. But when you were with Peeta, you were better. Not good, but better. So I suppose a part of me knew that, and the other part didn't want to let go. Can you blame me for trying? I didn't think I'd ever get over it all, at first. If I'm going to be honest. I didn't realize that five and half years is such a long time. A lot can change in five and half years.

I wasn't that selfish. I wanted you—and I still do—to be happy. And I mean that, because like I said, it's getting better.

I still miss you, Katniss, because I really have no one to talk to. But it's not painful anymore, to miss you and think of you. Because it's been five and a half years, after all. Longer than I've known you.

Gale

...

**A/N **So, I'm actually thinking about writing an actual story, not in letter format, about Gale's life after the rebellion. After all, these letters did skip five and half years. School's starting (um, tomorrow) so I don't know if it will be soon or not, but if you're interested keep an eye out for it. Kay. Done advertising.


	4. A letter from Haymitch to Maysilee

**A/N **I'm not sure how long exactly it's been since an update, but it feels like a while to me, cause I got kinda stuck. So actually, you can thank Adrenaline Write for a faster update. I will too! Thanks, Adrenaline. :)

So here I present to you, not a letter between Gale and Katniss, but a letter between another pair that will never be. *sniff* Haymitch and Maysilee. (Haysilee. They have a perfect couple name, don't they?) I'm branching out from Gale and Katniss because 1) they can't write depressing letters their entire lives and 2) they've kind of run out of big things to say. So that's why I'm branching out.

And that leads me into my next thing I wanted to tell you guys: I put up a poll in my profile- _Whose letters do you want to see in _Longer Than I've Known You? I put up all the options I could think of, and left an 'Other' option for all the ones I couldn't. If you have one of those ' other' ideas, shoot me a message telling me who. So, please go vote, it would make me very happy. :) There are a few letters (like Gale to Prim, and Katniss to Prim), that I'm planning on writing but just haven't gotten in the mood/mindset to. So those are coming, but in the meantime I'd be happy for some suggestions/ideas.

I'll shut up, sorry. Enjoy! Reviews are muuuch appreciated. ;)

Maysilee,

You'd think it'd be easier to forget you. Sometimes things don't work the way you want them to. The memories you try to cling to start to fade away, and the images you want to get rid of seemed like they're burned to your eyelids. Whenever you close your eyes, there they are.

Avoid the dark at all costs. Don't close your eyes, because you don't know what's going to happen when you do.

Sometimes, when I think of you, I try to decide who got the better deal.

You died, and I lived. I won. But the Games don't end there. The moment you're reaped, your whole life becomes a game. There's only one player in this game, and he likes to cheat. Unless you're under his thumb, something must be done. Even when you're under his thumb, sometimes he gives you little reminders. I would say taking my family from me is a perfect reminder.

He took you from your family, but he did the same thing to me. I wasn't the same person when I came back to my family. After a while, it didn't matter anymore. They were gone before the next Games even started.

I had to mentor then. I was alone, and I was sixteen. As I got older, I didn't care anymore about the kids being sent into the arena. But even when I used to care, I was still responsible for the deaths of two kids, every year for 23 years. Because I couldn't save a damned one.

And when I try to decide who got the better deal, I almost always come to the same conclusion.

I think it was you.

And now it's all over. I don't know what to think. It's too late for me to get better. The only thing I can say is that I'm not going to waste what's given to me. So I'll live the rest of my life, no matter how twisted it's become. Far too many lives have been wasted already, some by me, and it can be my self-inflicted punishment to live out my life until whatever damned person in charge will let me die.

When I die, I think I may welcome it. Because whatever happens next, I don't want to be a part of it. I'm done being a player in the Games.

Haymitch


	5. A letter from Katniss to Prim

**A/N** Okay, just wanted to say thanks for all the votes on my poll... if you haven't voted already, go do it! :) I'm gonna tell you that I will eventually do a Peeta to Gale letter (and a Gale to Peeta letter as well), but first I need to mentally prepare myself. Those were 2 of the 4 top letters on the poll, but like I said, that takes serious mental preparation. d: Anyways, I'm done now. I write way too many a/n's. Kay. Go read. :)

Prim,

Happy birthday. You're twenty years old. Make a wish, blow out the candles.

I can just imagine the cake you would want. It's the very same one that you always begged me to look at on our way home from school, so many years ago. Vanilla, with pure white frosting, showered in colorful sprinkles. On the edges, thin designs that form little swirls and miniature flowers are done with a careful hand in blue and pink icing. Twenty shiny yellow candles ringing the edge.

I'd sing to you. You'd smile at me, and the mangy cat in your lap would hiss at me. I can picture it all, except for which house we'd be in. Would we be at our old home by the Meadow, or in our grand home in the Victor's Village? I can't decide. I myself don't have any happy memories from our second home, but you always looked so comfortable there. Like you belonged there. Comfort suits you, while it just scares me. I suppose that's because I've never trusted anything that was given to me, when giving everything to you was what I was all about.

There's only one more thing I can't decide. What I would get you for your present. You see, it's hard to buy a present for someone you don't know.

At first, I was afraid I would lose you. Lose my memories of you, lose the image of your face and the precise shade of your hair. I thought that's what happened when you lost someone, but it didn't work that way for me. I still see the freckles on your nose. The blue of your eyes. Sometimes, when I'm calling to Buttercup, or even talking to him while I rub his ears, my voice doesn't sound like my own. It sounds like your voice.

I still picture you as a thirteen-year-old, frozen forever. You were young. Still with innocence. The complete opposite of me. In the beginning, I was trying to keep you as the young girl you were, untainted by the horrors of the world. What I did that day was for you. So it was because of me that you were able to grow up, for a little while longer. But then, after all my first efforts, all the mistakes I made after I saved you led me to losing you anyways. I didn't realize that until it was too late. I can't say it was for nothing, because it wasn't. We both could live a little while longer, and cheat whatever entity decided our time was up. But in the end, my fight that began with saving ended with my losing you. I can place blame in lots of places, in lots of people, but in the end I find myself taking most of the blame anyways.

So happy birthday. Wherever you are, I hope you're doing whatever a 20-year-old Primrose Everdeen is supposed to do on their birthday. I wouldn't know.

Buttercup misses you. I can tell. The old cat's going a little senile now, because sometimes I find that he forgets about his dislike for me when he curls up beside me at night. See? He misses somebody to cuddle so much that he has to resort to me! I told you he misses you. I do, too. I miss you.

And I love you.

Katniss


	6. A letter from Annie to Finnick

Finnick,

The world is so beautiful now. I remember the time that you came home from the Capitol, and you took me out in the ocean. You took me so far out that the land was just a sliver on the horizon, and all around us was the water and the air and the sunshine. It was beautiful.

I remember what you told me. "_This is what it's going to look like, Annie. This is what it's going to feel like. When we're free._"

Every night, I dream about that day. And it always starts out the same, but it ends different every time. In the beginning, I sit in the canoe staring at the sparkling water. But when I turn around, that's when it changes. Sometimes you're sitting on the other end, smiling at me. Sometimes you're not even there.

And sometimes I turn around to find that the sturdy canoe under me has disappeared. I drown in that ocean, and it's only when I sink to the blackness that I can wake up.

It was only two months ago when I experienced a new ending to my dream. I had turned around to find a new person sitting there, with bronze hair and eyes the exact shade of the sea. It wasn't you, but I loved him just as much. And I know you would've too, if you had got to know him. Your son. Our son.

He's just like you. I can't find a trace of myself in his features, though they say that he's a perfect combination of the two of us. But I don't care if he does look like me or not. I wanted him to look like you.

He helps me like you helped me. Just his voice saves me from drowning, like yours always did. As he gets older, I'll tell him more about you, and me, and what happened to us.

He's young, but just the tiniest things he does remind me of you. He gravitates towards water, he laughs at the same things you would. I can't help but feel like he's going to grow up the way you didn't. He's not going to an arena. He's safe. He's living out in the middle of the ocean. Free.

I wish you could have had that. You would love it, Finnick. I wish you were here to just see it. Sometimes I feel like I have no claim to my freedom, because I never found my chance to fight for it. Out of the two us, you deserved this life, not me.

I love you.

Annie

_Accompanying the letter is a small, smudged picture, clearly drawn by a child's hand. In the center of the picture a small stick figure stands with a lopsided smile and a mess of bronze hair. He holds out his hands to the two figures on either side of him. His mother. And his father. _

**A/N **Thanks for all the reviews, I appreciate it. :) Oh, and you can thank The Potter Games for this chapter, because that's where the Finnick/Annie letter idea came from. xD

I'm hoping you voted on the poll in my profile, but if you didn't, allow me to quote Nike: _Just do it._ :D

~Maddie~


	7. A letter from Johanna to Katniss

Katniss,

I'm not sure how to start this letter. There's a lot of stuff I can't say; for example, _'I miss all of our fond memories training to fight in the rebellion in the dank underground of District 13!'_ To tell you the truth—and don't expect me to sugarcoat anything I tell you—I don't miss it. Take that personally if you wish, because I know you don't miss it either.

I just moved to what was formerly District 11. For a few years after the rebellion, I was in 2, because they gave me a job there. After that I moved to 4 until I realized I couldn't stand being near the ocean and the water. I moved to 7 then, and realized that I couldn't stand being there because of all the memories that the place held. I only came to 11 a few months ago, actually.

After the year I spent in 7, and considering why I left, I can't believe you're still in 12. I don't know how you stand it.

But after all, you always seemed to handle things better than I did. That fact used to make me mad. Once I got to know you, I realized that maybe you handled things just as bad as I do, except you just don't show it. I could just see it in your eyes. I wasn't so mad after that, I suppose. It's probably selfish of me to think that I've had it worse than everyone else, but I've never claimed to be a selfless person as it is.

I haven't seen anybody from my years as a victor for a long time. Everybody's spread far and thin. Or dead. Most of them are dead. The only people I know of who are still near each are you and Peeta. And Haymitch too, I suppose, but even if it's standing next to you he can still be miles away because he's usually drunk as a skunk. But anyways, I'm really on my own now, even more than I was before the rebellion. Strange. I never thought that possible, it's just that now I don't really mind it. In fact, the only person I really talked to in all the districts I've lived in since the rebellion was Gale, in District 2. He got offered a job there just like I did. I'm not sure if you know that, but he shows up on TV sometimes. He was some big-shot in whatever job he had.

I hope you don't mind that I mentioned him. Actually, I don't care. Whatever the hell happened between you two made him look like someone stabbed his puppy whenever you came into the conversation. Well, I suppose that's not entirely true—because if he had a puppy and it died he's probably be happy for fresh meat and eat it or something. When the conversation turned to anything that could be connected to you, he didn't really look sad. I can't describe it. But either way, he never said a word about it. A little after I left 2, I heard that he left as well, and he quit his schmany job. Anyways, I haven't seen Gale since. Looking back, I think he was the last person from the rebellion days that I saw. It's been a long time.

Oh, and I heard that you and Peeta were… together. So, congratulations and all that. I take it he hasn't tried to strangle you or kill you yet, and I guess that means it's going well.

I'm not quite sure how to end this letter either. _'It's been fun?'_ No. It has not. _'It's been lovely chatting?'_ Well, I wouldn't put it that way.

I'll end it with this: I hope you're fine. I don't hope you're good or well or anything you're supposed to be, because nobody who came through that rebellion is good or well or freaking fine and dandy. But you're alive, and you're still living, so I hope you can at least say that you're fine with it.

Johanna

**A/N **Ah, what a refreshing letter. It's still a bit depressing, but I've taken a break from the angsty lost loves. If there's one thing I've learned about myself when writing THG fanfiction, it's that I can't write a happy story to save my life. Unless, of course, I'm writing a crazy parody that's not even serious to begin with.

Anyways, the letter coming up next with probably be a Gale to Prim letter. Not making any promises, but it was voted for a lot on my poll. (I'll say it again. Go vote on my poll if you haven't already. Kthanksverymuch) And someday, _someday_, I'll give you a Gale-to-Peeta or Peeta-to-Gale letter.

LAST THING, I SWEAR: I'm going to be doing NaNoWriMo this year (Go to www(dot)nanowrimo(dot)com if you want more info), which is where you write 50,000 words in the months of November, and you write a novel. That means that, even though I am a slow updater as it is, updates will be even slower. (Possibly nonexistent, but my letters are faster to write than my other chapters, cause letters are shorter) So, my apologies for that, though I will try to pump out a couple letters before November begins and I start pounding away on my NNWM novel.

Reviews are appreciated. ;) Even if you just give me a comma. I'll be _overjoyed _with a comma. *stares readers down* All right, Alg h/w awaits. Bye. :)


	8. A letter from Gale to Prim

Prim,

You and I, Prim, we know all about fire. It did destroy the both of us, after all. And it was you worse than me. We both saw when it took up the district, swallowing up everything in the town faster than I would've believed—we are the coal district, after all.

Like a lot of things, once fire starts, it's hard to stop it. It can start so little. It starts catching fire. And it escalates out of control.

It made sense to me that you save lives, some would have to be lost as well. Was it wrong? I can't force myself to believe that. I knew people would die. I just didn't think it would be you.

There is no answer to what's right, and what's wrong when it comes to war. It's so simply to judge what is not happening to you. To say that, when it's all over, you can look back and be proud of what you accomplished. It's a bad business, war, and people die. All the time. I've thought about everything that happened, the things I did and the things I just witnessed. At the time, I couldn't think of another solution to the rebellion, and I still can't. I didn't talk to you much about it, but I wonder what you would've thought. You see things differently than most of us, because you can put yourself in everyone's shoes. There are few people left in this new world who know how to empathize. I've never been one of them.

I realized that I wanted to ask you what you thought about the war. And I never did.

It's the most difficult situation to think your way through. If you kill people, you could be free, and possibly save another person from being killed ever again. If you don't kill people, the chances are you won't be free, and under our circumstances people will be killed in the future anyways.

The ends can sometimes justify the means. Thinking about the greater good… it can't be a bad thing. The world isn't colored black and white; more often, you'll find it in shades of gray.

I'm sorry.

That's all I really have left to say. I'm sorry that you died and that it was probably my doing. I'm sorry you couldn't live in the free world that was created just after you died. I'm sorry I took you from your family.

You didn't deserve it. Any of it.

Gale


	9. A letter from Johanna to Gale

_The following is a message delivered by the Panem Postal Service. _

Gale—

Well, you lucky bastard. Even after all the nights you spend drinking in the bar, and the hours you probably spent throwing it all up afterwards, you still manage to find someone who actually wants to be with you. Dear Gale, engaged to be married.

Congratulations. I didn't see that one coming.

And from what I hear, you're actually nice to her. When did you ever buy ME flowers in the two weeks we were together? Yeah. I thought so. A for effort.

In case you care, right now I'm on a boat, heading east. No idea where the hell we're going to end up. I just know that by the time it's over, I'm going to be so seasick that I'll barf all over every dumb idiot on this godforsaken boat. It's just been a grand old time. Of course, on the other end of this ocean is probably a land with dancing midgets and rainbows, or at least another dictator-controlled land where I'll be sold into slavery and forced into something more demented than the Hunger Games.

Either way, a free Panem has not been what I'd expected, and I needed to get away. Because what's the fun in living if you don't have to fight for it? You used to agree with me, until you got yourself a _fiancée. _Jesus, I only left for a year!

And you had to go get happy on me. Out of everyone in this world, you have disappointed me the worst.

I hope you can understand my sarcasm in this letter, or my jokes for that matter. Which, by the way, that last paragraph sort of was. Maybe your love-befuddled mind doesn't pick up snide jokes anymore, and that would be such a shame. This is what love does to people.

I guess you've figured out I'm not coming back for your precious wedding. I'm not coming back for anything, even with a promise of dictators and death threats. Mary likes to send me sappy letters that tell me how amazing you are. Don't tell her that they made my seasickness worse, or that I skip the really awful paragraphs.

Drink something strong for me next time you're at the bar. They took all the alcohol from me on the boat after I got drunk and projectile-vomited all over the top deck, after singing some pirate songs.

Have a happy lovey-dovey skippy-dee-do wedding. Can't tell you when I'll waste my time writing sappy letters to you again.

Jo

**A/N **Hey, ho. I won't shame myself by counting how long it's been since I last updated. It's been ages, I know, but people have lives, even weenies like me. *shock* But I'm still back with another chapter, this story's still been incubating in the back of my head, hanging around with all the useless crap I learned in History.

I love writing from the POV of Johanna, just because she's such a sweetie. Not really. It's because she's not particularly emotionally attached, so you don't have to be too in touch with deep feelings to write from her mind.

Reviews would be lovely, even commas. Semicolons, colons, asterisks, apostrophes, quotations marks (right ones only, though), exclamation points. Or you know, actual words. It's all good.

Squishy hugs to you if you're reading this after how long it's taken me to update. Seriously. I'll fly to your house in the dead of night and give you a hug.


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